


Fallen Star

by violetkid



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Drabble, M/M, Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-21
Updated: 2014-12-21
Packaged: 2018-03-02 17:49:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2820902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/violetkid/pseuds/violetkid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Drabble AU: Set in the Half Blood Prince story in which Draco manages to kill Albus Dumbledore. Harry had been aware of Draco's situation for a long time. Becoming a murderer is affecting Draco terribly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fallen Star

**Author's Note:**

> Listen to "Dumbledore's Farewell" from the Harry Potter And The Half-Blood Prince OST (if you wish).

He was running, faster than his weak body could bare to manage. His scraped and bloodied hands teared the bark off trees and his feet ripped the grass out of the ground. The boys throat was clogged with screams and saliva, choking and coughing and crying. Dots of spit shot through his teeth with every pant. He could barely see for he couldn't open his eyes.  
“Draco, stop!” A voice behind him screamed. The voice echoed over and over, bouncing off each tree but never hitting the Draco’s ears. The same voice was once comforting, but now nothing. He didn't need him! Oh, but he did. Draco couldn't, wouldn't, allow himself near Harry every again. Draco’s body had warped grotesquely into the embodiment of evil. He was sinful. For Harry’s sake, Draco was going to make sure the distance between them was permanent.  
“Please, Draco!” The voice scratched at Draco’s ankles but he was too quick for it. He did not want to die, but in death he could no longer hurt anyone. In death, everyone else would be safe.  
“Fuck off, Harry.” Draco spits the words over his shoulder. “Just fuck off! Go back!”  
Harry’s hands cling the back of Draco’s torn, black shirt. For a couple of seconds, Draco is just dragging him. Harry’s desperate hands run all over the back of Draco’s neck and shoulders. Draco’s knees make an echoing crack as he just falls, shoulders and head hunched, hands dangling, the tips of his knuckles brush the ground. Harry gets taken down with him and is thrown to one side, slashing his face on a rock in the process. In the darkness, Draco could just make out the blood that trickled the curves of his face and into his mouth. Everything Draco does leads to Harry’s pain and he couldn’t stand it any longer. He couldn’t look at the bloody gash on Harry’s face without wanting to cause a gash of his own as punishment.

***

Ice skating! They went ice skating on the lake. You should have seen the joy on Harry’s face when Draco suggested it. Though if i remember correctly, the ice cracked and Harry fell through it. That’s why he’s in the Hospital Wing, for pneumonia. Do you think Draco did it on purpose? Their friendship does seem a little sudden. I also heard Draco forced his head underwater but who knows what really happened.

***

Twirling and twisting with as much grace as a baby penguin, and just as cute. Draco watched Harry stumble and perform for him. Once or twice he fell flat on his face but he jumped up and refused defeat. Throwing himself from one side of the ice to another with a bashful smile that forced Draco to laugh. Harry had never been ice skating before, so Draco thought he’d treat him. Draco’s plan wasn’t for Harry to stumble and slit his own ankle with the blade from his right skate. So when Draco rushed over, on his hands and knees, he wasn’t thinking about how thin the ice really was, and how the force of two bodies on a small surface area would cause the ice to collapse. The ice entered Harry’s throat like tiny blades, he was gargling the remainder of his oxygen before letting go of it. Draco grasped Harry’s hair and pulled him back up but he had already been under for far too long and he wasn’t responding. Rumours spread like the plague. It was Draco’s fault after all. 

***

“I did it. I killed him. I’m a murderer” Draco and Harry were both on the sodden, mossy ground of the Forbidden Forest, on their knees, both wanting to stand but not to leave the other. Harry had never heard Draco cry like this before, there was no sadness, only pain. Every word Draco managed to choke out hit Harry in the chest and he forgot how to breath. The stars in Draco’s eyes dropped over his eyelashes and fell down his cheeks.  
“It’s okay. It’s okay.” Harry was whispering over and over but it didn't mean anything to Draco. Harry's hands searched Draco’s face. He wiped his tears and brushed back the fallen strands of hair. He brushed his eyelids with his fingertips and pat down his eyebrows. Draco’s body lurched backwards and forwards as he was speaking, it was as if he had no control.  
“I killed him. I’m a murderer. I’m nothing. Nothing! I am everything that’s wrong. I am disgusting!”  
“What the fuck are you talking about, you bastard?”  
“I fucked up, Harry, I really fucked up.”  
Harry had no words of condolence for him. He knew perfectly well what Draco had done, he saw it with his own eyes. But he also knew the consequences if he hadn’t killed Albus Dumbledore. Lord Voldemort was getting stronger and stronger every day, he had taken the Malfoy family and ruined them. Lucius was in Azkaban and to get back at him the Dark Lord chose and gave Draco the job of killing the only man Voldemort ever feared. What a fucking honour. But oh no, the Dark Lord wasn’t spiteful.  
“This isn’t your fault!”  
“It is! it is!”  
“No, listen to me. Listen! Voldemort has ruined your family, he ruined my family. He’s the only one who has fucked up here. You have done nothing wrong. You’re not a bad person, Draco.”  
“I’m a fucking murderer! Look at me!”  
Harry looked him up and down. He saw what Draco must have been seeing, but the monstrous, evil person before him was nothing more than a scared boy, a boy who had no hope from the beginning. A boy who, despite his best efforts, Harry could not save. For Voldemort was powerful, and had the ability to ruin beautiful, good, righteous people, and turn them into little versions of himself. He did this to Draco. Draco was in pain, Harry was so angry he couldn’t pretend not to be, violence and aggression was all he knew. He shook Draco’s limp body as he screamed at his unresponsive face. Draco’s wide eyes were stuck staring at the ground.  
“You want to know what my Godfather said to me? He said, “You’re not a bad person, just a person that bad things have happened to.” Draco, Voldemort did this to you! To get back at your father! Look at me! Fucking look at me!”  
Draco could not meet Harry’s eyes, because he did not want to infect them with himself. The two boys sat alone in the dark and damp forest. Clutching onto each other as if the other was the answer to all this pain and torment.  
“Don’t hate yourself, hate Voldemort. I'm begging you, don’t let him win.”  
The blood had started to crust around Harry’s right cheekbone. Though the blood may wash away and the scab will heal, Draco knew Harry's cheek would be forever scarred. Hadn't he been scarred enough already? Harry was right. It was Voldemort’s fault. It was Voldemort’s fault Harry had even started caring about Draco, all those nights he watched Draco moving about the castle, following him during the day, comforting him when he was crying in the bathroom when his plan was falling apart.

***

It was hard to tell whether the liquid in the basin were tears or water. Draco grabbed the sides of the sink to keep himself steady whilst he just let everything go. The pain of letting his father down, his mother down. The pain of letting the Dark Lord down. He was chosen for this, there must have been a reason why. Lord Voldemort knew Draco was capable. Surely that’s why he chose him. Draco’s throat was convulsing in pain, acidic stomach bile burning his insides on the way up. He deserved this and he knew it. Spitting into the sink he couldn't help but cry. And cry and cry and cry. His plans to kill Dumbledore all failed. Possessing Katie Bell did nothing, poisoning a bottle of mead Professor Slughorn had to give to Dumbledore only almost killed Weasley. Nothing he did was worthwhile. He put his all into killing Dumbledore, but none of it worked. He was nothing. He could do nothing.  
Harry Potter, the boy who lived, the chosen one, just had to stick his fucking nose in it. Draco was the chosen one! Lord Voldemort, the darkest, most powerful wizard had chosen him! But, it was hard to ignore, he had also chosen Potter.  
Harry fucking Potter. Couldn't stand the spotlight being on someone else for a change.  
Harry entered the bathroom and just stared at Draco. Draco’s breaths were getting faster and faster and he felt strangled by his own saliva and vomit. He crashed into the nearest cubicle and just lay there. Harry didn't try and break down the door. He didn't try and hex him whilst he was semi-unconscious. He waited.  
It’s Voldemort’s fault Draco was put in this situation, where he had to sneak around the castle every night, where he would break down in the bathroom and the only person there to comfort him was Harry Potter. It was Voldemort’s fault they even started caring about each other at all. Surely, all of this was Voldemort’s plan? Voldemort wants to kill Harry Potter, everyone knows that. So what if it was Voldemort's plan for him to start caring about Harry so he could start hurting him. That’s all he was good for anyway, right? His purpose was to cause Harry pain while Voldemort was away.  
Whilst he was waiting for Draco to leave the cubicle, Harry started to clear up the shattered remained of the the broken mirrors. But Draco, still not fully conscious, waved his wand in an attempt to help Harry, shot a curse at a mirror. The shards of glass entered Harry’s lungs like a fork in a cake. 

***

Did you hear? Harry Potter is in St Mungos! I bet it was that Draco Malfoy, nasty piece of work that boy is. Yeah! Apparently those two were seen in one of the bathrooms together. You know what happened? Draco probably lost it. Scary, right? Well, what else do you expect from a Malfoy?

***

The whispered growls of fire could be heard from inside the forest. Hagrid’s cabin was alive in dancing, mischievous flames. Draco buried his head in Harry’s shoulder in the hopes he would get lost there. He never wanted to see this light of day again as long as he had to live with what he had done. The only light came from the moon and it touched the curves of Harry’s face delicately. Draco’s handsome face turned ugly with despair and anger. Harry fell backwards at the force of Draco’s shove, and watched as he hobbled deeper into the forest.  
Round and round he went before he finally caught up with him. Harry almost laughed with joy before seeing Draco’s wand at his own throat.  
“What are you doing? You over dramatic prat! Get over here. Now.”  
“I know you want to stop me but it wont help anything. This is for you. I'm doing this for you and for my family.”  
Harry’s feet wouldn't move and his hands were shaking. All he wanted was to reach out, throw Draco’s wand away and pull him close, so close they could never be separated.  
“I’ll never hurt you again, Harry. I promise.”  
He wanted Draco to know he wasn't alone but couldn't find the words. Harry's throat was aching from crying. Draco kept his eyes wide open, as if he didn't dare close them, he didn't want his last view of the world to be the inside of his eyelids, and kept his eyes focused on Harry.  
“I’m doing this for you, Harry.”  
His eyes and mouth drooling helplessly. Draco’s knees were shaking. Voldemort already had such a tight hold on his family, he knew there were no way to stop him. The only way to kill Voldemort’s hold on him was to kill himself, and in turn, give Harry a fighting chance at happiness.  
“Don’t. Don’t leave me.”  
Harry fell to his knees once more and only had seconds to notice the way the stars shone brighter around Draco than anywhere else in the sky. The way the ethereal shine of the moon could not even distract from Draco's face, the glow of his bright and slanted eyes. That the sun could go fuck itself and refuse to rise tomorrow and Harry would still get his warmth from the only person he ever felt a real connection to.  
Harry’s lips could only whisper around the word “Please,” before Draco twitched his wrist and the blood from his neck rocketed sky high in a halo around his head.  
“Look away.” Draco gargled and spluttered before collapsing with a dull thud like a doll to the ground.

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this very tired, I hope you don't hate it too much. If you have any criticism you'd like to share it's more than welcome, or you could just tell me what you thought, that would be cool too. Thanks!


End file.
